In the middle of the playground, slumped next to the sandpit, were the two officers who’d been left isolated in the enormous cock-up that was Op Eagle. In fact, it would come to be known as Op Turkey. As a few stragglers were arrested and scuffles broke out in the surrounding streets, the pair were attended to by their fellow officers.

One was unresponsive. The other’s head lolled on his chest. Both had been badly beaten. Despite working with them on squad patrol for the past five years, the two officers who were first to attend them could only identify them by their numbers on their lapels.

‘Officers down! Get a fucking ambulance!’ one screamed into his radio, spittle landing on his friend.

Chapter 19

Sharon Bradley let herself into her flat.

She was exhausted. Her body ached, she was emotionally numb and she needed a break. She’d been going all guns blazing since early this morning, purely on emotional charge, and now she was empty. She’d done all she could to bring Keira’s murder to the attention of the residents of the Beacon Estate, but she feared that the genuine concern she’d raised would only last a day or two, if she was lucky, before everybody got bored and forgot about her daughter, unlike, she suspected, the death of the posh woman. But for now it was something to focus on and keep her busy. No one could quite believe the audacity of the police, marching in like that, thinking their uniforms and bullying tactics would get them the results they wanted. People were more likely to protect those who’d murdered Keira now. Sharon’s hopes of encouraging witnesses to come forward faded and she felt a deep melancholy.

Away from the chaos of the night, caused by the frigging bastard police, who’d thrown their weight around rather than search for the killers, the peace of her flat was welcome, but also a reminder that Keira wasn’t coming through the door ever again.

They’d had their fights, like any mother and daughter. Keira could be a handful. She’d been an independent gobshite all her life. Life. No more life.

Sharon picked up the post and dropped it on the table. The coppers had been in her flat for most of the day, searching through Keira’s personal stuff for clues. She reckoned if they were going to find anything it would be on her phone; the girl had lived on it. She went to her daughter’s room and opened the door, holding onto it, frozen on the threshold. She could hear shouts and screams coming from outside, faint now and sporadic, unlike earlier, when the streets had been a virtual war zone. Her vision of bringing the estate together lay in tatters on the roadside.